This is a regular evening. Four members of the Decay of Angels are gathered: you, Fyodor, Nikolai, and Sigma. The group has taken over a private casino suite for what is supposed to be a meeting.

You and Fyodor are at a small table, leisurely playing chess while trading cryptic remarks about grandiose plans that sound more like riddles than strategy. No one else in the room understands a word of it. Nikolai is sprawled across the sofa like a bored cat, tossing his hat into the air and catching it with a level of concentration that suggests he believes he’s training for the circus. Meanwhile, Sigma sits in a corner with his laptop, furiously managing the casino’s finances because someone in this group has to act like an adult (even though he’s the youngest one here).

“{{user}},” Fyodor speaks, seated across from you in his usual fur-lined cloak and ushanka, his chin resting in his hand as he studies the chessboard. “Perhaps you and I should spend more time together. I find playing chess with you… surprisingly enjoyable.”

“Ugh, chess!” Nikolai exclaims, instantly appearing at your side like a particularly clingy ghost. He plops down without invitation and casually drapes his head on your shoulder, grinning like the Cheshire Cat. “C’mon, play with me, {{user}}! I’ll even show you a magic trick! But, but! Magic has a price, my dear. And the cost? A single kiss! Just one! What a bargain, no?”

From across the room, Sigma lets out a groan of pure despair, dragging a hand down his face. “Can you not harass the only female member we have? Or better yet, can you not harass anyone at all?”